


Show Me

by Violette_Pleasures



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angry Sex, Dom Tony Stark, Fighting Kink, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mentions of Aftercare, Name-Calling, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Pictures, Possessive Tony Stark, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Peter Parker, cuz it happened just not on screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19411939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violette_Pleasures/pseuds/Violette_Pleasures
Summary: Tony and Peter like to play a dangerous game, pushing each other to the limit until they're fighting and at each other's throats. Which is just how Peter likes it anyways because nothing turns him on more than when Tony turns all that breathtaking anger on him. Tony Stark is irresistible on his own, but when he gets upset, Peter just melts.(Softer than the tin reads)





	Show Me

**Author's Note:**

> Another one I posted to tumblr a while ago. I haven't posted anything filthy for these two in a minute and felt the need :3c I wrote this in like a day so it may not be the best, but... anyways, I hope you all like it

“You come here often?”

Peter smiled over the rim of his cherry flavoured cocktail, lips glossy and sweet. “Not too often, sorta new to the scene.”

“Well, why don't you hang out with me a little, hm? I can show you around, make a few introductions. My friend owns the place.” The young man approaching Peter was very good looking, little older than him, maybe mid-twenties, with bright blue eyes, tan skin and dark hair in a stylish undercut and slicked back. “I'm Oliver, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you. I'm Peter.” He took Oliver's hand, surprised when he pressed a kiss to the back of it, looking up at Peter through his brows the whole time. This was one of those pretty but dangerous boys, the kind that lured you in with sweet words and left you reeling after, he could see it in the glint of his pretty cat's eyes.

“So, I apologize if I'm wrong, but you've been standing here watching everyone for a while, is it correct to assume you're looking for a date?” Oliver leaned against the bar, fit body angled towards Peter. He was standing so close, Peter could smell his cologne even amongst all the clashing smells of writhing bodies, sweat and alcohol.

“You might be right,” Peter laughed soft and coy, glancing up through his mascara thickened lashes. His hand went to his bare stomach, just below his flowy black crop top, rubbing little teasing circles there with his fingertips. “Depends on how much you're willing to pay.” He scanned the room once more, smirking when his eyes met a set of deep, chocolate toned eyes that had been carefully watching him all evening.

“However much you want, sweetheart, I've got money.” Oliver's eyes sparked with enthusiasm, already reaching a hand out to touch Peter's waist. It was a light caress right at the narrowest point, flirtatious but not clingy and it was a little terrifying to Peter how smooth this guy could be. “Let's go around back where it's a little quieter and we can discuss things.”

“Alright,” Peter shrugged, finishing off his drink and allowing himself to be lead by the hand towards the back of the club.

The back hall of the club was like any other, full of people making out, in various states of undress, fucking like animals up against the darkened walls. One woman smiled at Peter over her date's shoulder as he hiked her mini dress further up her thighs and Peter blushed brilliantly. Finally, they made it outside, cool air washing over him, the wet grit of his boots on rain soaked asphalt echoed in the narrow alley.

“So, how do you wanna do this? We can do it here or maybe go to my car...”

“Here is just fine for me if it is for you.” Peter fluttered his lashes and placed a hand to Oliver's chest. “It's a hundred for everything, fifty for a blow job.”

“How about we start with a blow job and go from there?” Oliver reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, fishing out a fifty.

“Or how about you put the money away and fuck off?”

Both of them turned, in shock to see who was standing in the alley way looking about two seconds away from committing murder—Tony Stark. The older man took another threatening step forward and Oliver subconsciously stepped back.

“We're just having a little fun, man, what's it matter to you?” The younger man took a step forward, putting Peter behind him. For all his posturing, Oliver was shaken, Peter could hear it in his voice, the usual slick cadence slightly higher pitched and dry sounding.

“I'm giving you precisely five seconds to step away from the boy.” There was a feral growl to the undercurrent of Tony's voice and it made Peter shiver and bite his strawberry frosted lip.

“What? Does he belong to you or something?” Oliver asked incredulously, starting to finally get really annoyed.

“Actually,” Peter stepped around Oliver with a smile, cutting Tony off before he could snap again, and walked over to the older man, touching his chest and leaning into him. Immediately, Tony's hand found his waist and he jerked him close. “I do belong to him.”

Oliver stood there dumbstruck for a few moments before his voice found him again. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry.” Peter gave him an exaggerated pouty face and a fingertipped wave, resting his head on Tony's shoulder, adoring how he could feel the billionaire practically trembling with rage.

“Fuck the both of you!” The younger man turned on his heel and headed back into the club, slamming the door shut behind him.

Peter sighed contentedly watching him go. “Well, that was fun. What did you—“

“What the hell was that, Peter?” Tony turned all that glorious, beautiful rage on Peter, grasping his shoulders firmly and giving him a rough shake.

“What?” Peter sulked, fighting back another smile. “I was just playing the game...”

“Uh-huh, right.” The look Tony fixed him with would probably make anyone else run for cover, brown eyes burning with jealousy and anger, brows and lips set into a firm line that dripped with disappointment. “Did you forget it was just a game for a minute, sweetheart, and think you were an actual prostitute? Forget no one but me is allowed to touch you?”

“Tony, you're being unreasonable—“

“I'M BEING—“ Tony paused to gather himself, running his hands down his face and growling under his breath. “I'm being unreasonable? Peter, you were two seconds away from dropping to those dirty knees of yours and sucking that stranger's dick!”

“I wasn't gonna do it,” He rocked the toe of his boot back and forth, hands behind his back, looking up at Tony with his best little boy sweet face. “Hey wait—dirty knees? Did you just call me a slut?”

“Calling it like I see it.” Tony shrugged, straightening up to his full height.

“Okay, what the actual fuck, this was _your_ idea, Tony! I was just playing my part!” Peter felt himself bristling, small fists balled at his sides, stomping his little foot for good measure.

“You sure it was just “playing”?” Tony strode forward fast and intimidating, walking Peter backwards until his back hit the damp brick wall of the neighboring building. They were completely cast into shadow, standing right beneath a fire escape and half hidden by a pile of empty crates and boxes a few feet away. “You wanna be treated like a whore, baby?”

“What're you talking—ah!” Peter was cut short by a hand in his hair, fisting it and yanking his head back. He could feel the exact moment his heart slid up into his throat, pulse thrumming so hard it hurt in his exposed neck.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart? You want to know what it's like being Tony Stark's whore?” The tip of Tony's nose was cold where it traced up the side of Peter's throat to his jaw.

Peter swallowed hard and nodded. “Show me.”

Tony laughed darkly under his breath, pulling back to look at Peter, gazing at him down the bridge of his nose and Peter felt weak in the knees over how condescending it appeared. That look was about all Peter got before Tony was yanking him away from the wall and turning him around roughly, pressing his face into the brick with a big hand to the back of his neck. Tony plastered himself to Peter's back, rutting the hard length of his cock against Peter's ass.

“Good little sluts beg for it, so start begging.” Tony husked against Peter's ear sending goosebumps cascading down Peter's spine and arms. When Peter didn't immediately obey, he pushed his face a little harder into the brick, making the bite of the rough surface impossible to ignore.

“Please, Mr. Stark, I want you to fuck me.” He felt his breathing picking up, his senses awakening like being touched with a live wire everywhere Tony was. A shock of arousal coursed through Peter's chest at grounded itself nice and warm low in his stomach when the older man kicked his legs apart. “Please...”

“You do sound so pretty when you beg, darling.” Tony crooned in dulcet, the whiskey-sweet of his voice pulling Peter in as it always did. “But I'm not entirely convinced.”

“Please, just—“ Peter paused to swallow hard, mouth watering in some Pavlovian response to knowing how close he was to getting fucked within an inch of reason. “Fuck me, use me, I don't care how, just make me yours.”

“Use you, hm?” The grin forming on Tony's lips was positively malicious; Peter didn't need to see it to know. “I'm going to make you regret saying that.”

Peter's breath caught when Tony's hands came around the front to unbutton his ridiculously tight skinny jeans. He yanked them down with such force, growling in impatience, Peter's hips stung from the fabric dragging roughly over them. But every little pain and ache only served to get him harder, make him want Tony more and he went with it, feeling like a rag doll. Tony's hand went back to Peter's neck, keeping him in place while he shoved Peter's lacy black panties aside and pushed two fingers inside him without warning.

“You're even all stretched out and soaking wet already...pity, I was looking forward to stretching you out myself. But it does make things quicker, doesn't it?” Tony pressed the fingers in further, searching out for that small spot inside Peter. He let out a dry 'ah-ha' when Peter whimpered and his hips jerked. “Is that it? Is that where you want it?”

“Yes!” Peter cried out at the sudden intrusion, smiling despite himself at the slight dry tug on his insides, little happy-pained tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He pushed back onto Tony's thick fingers, desperately trying to push them deeper.

“I think that's enough of that.” The fingers were pulled free making Peter whine at the empty feeling, then there was the squeak-tear of plastic being ripped open with that perfect mouth so full of dark promises and Tony was rolling the condom on and lining up. “Here we go, baby.”

Peter braced himself but tried to remain lax enough that it wouldn't hurt; he hadn't lubed himself as well as he probably should have, but again, he had been looking forward to the pain that seared into him like a brand, the letters T.S. veritably glowing somewhere on the space of his ribs over his heart. But nothing could have prepared him for Tony grabbing his hips and jerking him back hard and fast onto his big, hot, hard cock, sheathing himself in Peter's tight young body in one go.

“Fuck!” Peter shouted, body at war with itself. Hurt? Good? Fight? Flight? Stay? Keep going? He was a mess of combating thoughts and emotions and he knew he had to look extremely stupid, hanging there, limply pressing into the wall, lips torn between another smile and a sob.

“O-oh...oh god...” Peter squeaked out, nearly choking on his words.

“Regretting it yet?” Tony sounded so damn smug. He sat perfectly still, whether that was meant as a small mercy or to further tease him, Peter didn't know.

“N-not even c-close.” He stammered out, teeth chattering with the building anticipation of the moment.

Tony hummed and shrugged, looking nonplussed, as he inched out and eased back in a few times, testing the give of the snug little hole wrapped around him. Satisfied, he really drew back and slammed in making Peter's cheek hit the wall hard enough to make him wince. “Just give it time, then.”

The older man finally released his harsh grip on Peter's neck, instead grabbing both his arms just above the elbow, drawing them back until they nearly touched, and took a few steps away from the wall. Peter swore he heard another chuckle come from Tony as he widened his stance and started absolutely fucking up into Peter, using his arms for leverage. All Peter could do was hang there, impaled on Tony's cock, and take it.

Which, coincidentally, is just how he liked it. Nothing got him off more than when Tony exhibited some of his strength; even more so when Peter reminded himself of Tony's age. Something about the idea of a big, strong older man, specifically Tony, wrecking him held so much appeal. He knew he was grinning around the moans Tony forced out of him, but it just felt so good, having Tony inside him and living out one of his fantasies.

“You should see your face right now...smiling like a true slut while you get fucked in some dingy back alley. In fact...” There was a pause, Tony released one of Peter;s arms as he shifted around behind him, hips never losing their rhythm. “Ah, here we go...smile for the camera, sweetheart.”

Without thought, Peter complied, smiling for the camera, even making a victory sign. There was a blinding flash in the dark and the sound of a shutter click. Tony looked over the photo and groaned appreciatively before showing it to Peter.

Shit, he looked a mess. Drool was running down one of the corners of his mouth, his eyes were all bleary with tears, mascara smeared under his eyes, face flushed and smiling like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh, just look at you, darling. Don't you look so cute and so... _fuckable_?” Tony was practically cooing at him, voice dripping with a warm pride that had Peter preening, fighting against the initial feelings of absolute embarrassment. “Maybe we should post this one online. What do you think, sweetheart?”

“No! No, please don't.” They both knew Tony wouldn't, but Peter still felt the need to beg for mercy.

“I don't know, you've been so naughty tonight, I think I may do it.” Tony looked down at his phone screen with an arched brow.

“Please, Mr. Stark! I promise I'll be good! I'll do whatever you want, just don't do it.” The grip on Peter's left arm tightened and he let out a quiet 'ah~!'.

“You really need to stop saying you'll do anything for me,” Tony pocketed his phone and took Peter's other arm back up, holding them firmly behind his back as he started pistoning his hips forward brutally. “Or I might just take you up on that offer, make you do all sorts of filthy things for me—but I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? 'Cause you like being Daddy's little whore, don't you?”

Peter nodded along dumbly, eyes nearly rolling back in his head. Tony struck his prostate with every thrust, making Peter's trapped cock leak through his slinky, black lingerie. He felt Tony swell inside him, thrusts getting harder and shallower, listened as his heavy pants turned to deep grunts.

God, he loved this. Something was fundamentally wrong with him for him to find pleasure in this, but being degraded and used by Tony filled him to the brim with happiness.

“M-mr. Stark—hnn, I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come!” Peter barely managed out. The tip of his cock was slipping around in the messy precum stain he had made and it was driving him crazy, the rough lace tempting him to come right then and there. But he knew better.

“Don't. You. Fucking. Dare.” Tony growled out between thrusts. “You come before me, and I swear to you, I will fuck orgasms out of you all night until it hurts, until you're begging me to stop.”

“Yes, sir...I won't.” Peter's brows knit together and he clenched his fists, trying with everything in him to hold off a few minutes longer.

Tony's thrusts grew more erratic, groaning almost constantly in the back of his throat as his pleasure mounted. “Fuck, baby...” With one, two, three more savage thrusts, Tony's head fell back and he came inside Peter, cock twitching hard inside him, a stream of curses pouring from his lips.

Peter did good. He did his best to hold still and allow the older man to use him until he was through with him, only making a tiny noise of protest when Tony stilled entirely, as though he intended to leave Peter unsatisfied.

“What? Do you want something?” Tony released Peter's arms, letting them fall back to his sides, grabbing his hips once more.

“Can I...uhm, will you let me come? Please?” Peter tried his hardest to sound as polite and undemanding as possible, keeping his voice pitched high and soft, maybe even a little childlike.

“I suppose you've earned it.” Tony rolled his hips, his still hard length rubbing right over that little spot inside Peter. “But, no touching. You come on my cock or not at all.”

Peter wanted to cry in frustration. It felt good having Tony grinding into him, constantly pressing on his prostate, but it didn't feel like enough, knew he was gonna have to work for it. He gently bounced himself on Tony's softening cock, wishing he could reach down and end it with a few twists of the wrist. He finally came just when Tony was about to slip soft from him. He moaned lowly through it, finding it not nearly satisfying as it could've been, but he supposed that was the whole point, wasn't it?

“Fuck, that was intense.” Tony's demeanor softened considerably as he caught his breath, quickly disposing of the used condom and tucking himself away. He carefully wiped Peter clean with a tender hand and pulled his pants back up his hips and refastened them. “Are you okay? I wasn't too mean, was I, honeybunch?”

“No, it was perfect.” Peter eagerly went into Tony's open arms, wrapping his arms about his waist and snuggling into his chest. “You were the right kind of mean. Thank you, Mr. Stark.” Tony had tried to correct him multiple times before, telling him to call him by his first name, but Peter selfishly and self-indulgently refused, liking how a simple honorific and Tony's last name put the older man above him, automatically putting him in charge.

“You're welcome, baby doll.” Tony lovingly stroked Peter's curls, pressing kisses to his crown and forehead.

Peter tilted his face upwards like a hungry baby bird for Tony to kiss, accepting each little comfort graciously. He felt exhausted and worn down to the core, but in a good, would most definitely do it again sort of way. “Did you have fun too?”

“Of course. I like making you happy.” They stood there for a moment longer, collecting themselves, before either even thought of pulling away. Peter was still a little shaky on his feet, the small platform boots not helping, so Tony held him close as he directed them back to his self-driving car. “How does ice cream and a hot bubble bath sound?”

“So good!” Peter chirped happily, climbing into the backseat with Tony and sitting in his lap. “Will you join me?”

Tony smiled and pecked Peter's lips. “Wouldn't have it any other way.”


End file.
